Caged
by Ultanerd
Summary: AU. They have already been labeled as criminals by society. With newfound friendship they hope to escape the prisons of their pasts, but with their world against them, can they save those who have always lived in darkness, without losing themselves?
1. Change

**Hello everybody! Let's keep this short. This is my first Teen Titans fic, but I have so many buzzing around in there and I want to write them all. So what I'm going to do is write a first chapter for all them and then run with whatever gains the most support. I know this first chapter is slow, but if you like the idea and direction behind it then review!**

**For all you romantics out there this story should be filled with love hexagons and angsty goodness. For all you blood mongers, there are going to be plenty of fights too, just none of it happens in this chapter unfortunately. It's all set up.**

**NOTES: Character histories will be given through the story, but if you have some questions feel free to ask. The story is set in a halfway home, so most of the characters should have some colorful pasts and plenty of baggage. Victor Stone: ****Cyborg****, age 17. Rachel Roth: Raven, age 15. Roy Harper: Speedy, age 16. Richard Grayson: Robin, age 16. Kori Anders: Starfire, age 15 (she won't be all ELL or stupid like in most stories). Garfield Logan: Beast Boy, age 15. Karen Beecher: Bumblebee, age 16. I will give more info as I add more characters. I know the halfway home system does not work this way, but I'm exercising my rights as a writer. **

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**Chapter 1**

**Change **

_They must often change, who would be constant in happiness or wisdom. -Confucius_

Victor Stone sat out on the balcony of the old, dilapidated house, watching the bus pull in. It was just like all the ones he had seen before, long, white and with gating preventing sight in and out of it. He sighed. How many of these buses had he seen arriving and leaving this place, and more importantly, how many more would he have watch? For a halfway home this place was fairly large. At anytime it house from 25 to 30 kids, but all of them seemed to constantly come and go.

Except for him.

Another pained sigh escaped his lips. There was only one other person who had been here as long as him. It seemed like everyone else had some one who wanted them out. Even the kids in the foster care system had social workers that would try to find ways to set them up in a home. Compared to juvy this place was a holiday, but that didn't mean that he was content let life slip by. A childish hurt stabbed through him. He wanted to see his parents, but the reason he couldn't leave was because they didn't want to see him.

The wind blew softly carrying with it the random noise of the home's other residents. Victor leaded forward in the railing calmly waiting to see the newest bunch of screw-ups. As always, the guards came out first, leading their charges out and taking advantage of the time they had to demean children at least ten years younger than them.

The group lined up in the standard file facing the house, trying to ignore the cat calls of their future roommates as wells as the taunts of the guards. There was around ten of them, all following the basic procedure; posturing and scowling, looking like they were ready to kill the person next to them. Like every other time, all who came out of that bus stood ready for their evaluation, all the while coming to there own conclusions and judgments within seconds of their arrival.

As he watched, Victor's brow wrinkled. Something was different this time. Someone wasn't following the pattern. There was a boy within the group that stood, fidgeting, terrified. It was painfully obvious, like blood in the water. He was smaller than most of the girls in the group with a head of honey golden hair that curled slightly. The kid actually tried to turn and say something to the girl next to him, earning a sharp whack to the back of head. The girl grimaced and Victor saw her hand touch his arm in almost imperceptibly quick gesture of comfort. Interesting.

It was obvious that they weren't related. The boy looked like wonder bread, while the girl looked like she could have been a Mediterranean princess, with her deep, dark tan and burgundy hair. Since they were of opposite sex they could not have met in juvy. Besides that Victor had a suspicion that the boy had never gone. No one that had would have been stupid enough to talk during a line up.

With a newfound interest Victor looked over the line. He noticed that next to the two stood a boy with dark ebony hair. The difference in him was much more subtle. He wasn't glaring at everything in sight. It was hard to even see if he had any expression at all behind the sunglasses. The boy's body language was calm and confident, maybe even a little bored. It held an almost startling resemblance to the only other person who had broken the standard system.

Victor felt a warmth spread though his body. These people were change, and he needed change. He was so intent on his observations he didn't hear the petite girl walk up behind him. It was not her intention to startle him, but he jumped several feet in the air when she spoke.

"Do you see anyone interesting Victor, or are you just moping as always." The boy turned to face the girl fully after he recovered from his near heart attack. She wasn't very tall or that physically intimidating in anyway, yet it only took one look at her to scare most people off. Maybe it was the way she stood, or the way she seemed to move with an unearthly predatory grace. But Victor always suspected that it was the unsettling emptiness of her gaze. When you looked in their depths, it was like drowning in an ocean, deep and beautiful yet utterly devoid of mercy. She was one of the few people in this place that Victor thought of as a friend, but even he found the unforgiving lack of emotion in her stare unnerving.

"I don't mope Rachel. I think. And yeah, there are some kids in this group that'll be interesting. I could swear one of them has never even been to juvy before. This should be a fun couple of months for us."

"See Victor there is where your problems lie. You always assume that you won't be leaving this place at the end of the rotation. You do realize that you can't stay here forever."

"Wasn't it you who told me that it is better to be pleasantly surprised than getting crushed by a hope that never works out?"

"I did, and it _is_ true, but then you stopped eating and talking as much, and I think that it may have been prudent of me to have withheld that particular bit of advice."

"Prudent?"

"It means smarter or wiser." Victor grunted and nodded. Rachel seemed static and consistent. Like him she had been in this place a long time. She never expressed a desire to say or leave. Her actions were always as constant as the rise and fall of the sun. The clothes she wore were just slight variations of the same thing. Even her voice and facial expression rarely changed.

That's what made it so weird that to Victor, she seemed to embody change. She had come to this place a few days after Victor and his shift, in circumstances that were strange to say the least. She never observed any of the normal guidelines on how to act, but followed her own code of conduct to the letter. The biggest difference between her and everyone else in this place was the way she spoke. It was well-educated, upper class speech, which made her all the more mysterious and dangerous to everyone in the home.

Victor could not have cared less. In a month of being near her, his grammar and vocabulary had expanded exponentially, completely over taking all that he learned after years of studying in that terrible inner city school. It disgusted him to think of the way he used to speak. After almost a year and a half of hanging around Rachel he had completely lost his drawl and need to use ridiculous sounding slang. Victor was endlessly grateful to whatever higher power chose him to be one of the selected few that Rachel could tolerate.

"Well Victor, your new playmates are coming inside. Go greet them if you want but I have better things to do."

"Come on Rachel, you came last time."

"Yes, I didn't have anything to read last time. If you need company you can call up Speedy." Victor grumbled. Speedy, Roy Harper, had been on the last rotation that had come in. Drug possession and trafficking. He was a nice kid, but his nickname wasn't solely derived from the narcotics that had landed him in juvy in the first place. A large part of it probably came from his hyperactive nature. Victor would honestly never understand why Rachel chose him. While the guy was surprisingly honest and kind, it was a miracle that quiet loving Rachel hadn't killed him yet.

The tall, black boy went off to find the much smaller red head, muttering to himself over Rachel's decision. It wasn't that he didn't like Speedy, he was just disappointed. He had been holding hopes that Rachel had growing more social since she joined him the last time. She'd even initiated a conversation. That didn't sound like much, but to anyone that knew her even a little bit, it was the equivalent of her shouting at the top of her lungs and hugging everyone in sight.

After a minute of searching Victor gave up on looking for Roy and opted to wait for the new arrivals by himself. He perched himself on one of the broken, rickety stairs. It was a minute before they all filed in, sans the presence of guards. Everyone in the group was mugging (1) anything that moved, except for that blonde kid. Even the girl with him was giving a blank stony stare.

Slade Wilson snuck up quietly on the unsuspecting kids, per his normal routine. Victor had seen it many times. It tended to make one hell of a first impression. Wilson, the warden of this place, cut quite the imposing figure. He came in at about 6'4", was heavily armored with several layers of steely muscles and always dressed in the same outfit, black shirt and coat, black pants with a silver belt and steel toed cargo boots. The most intimidating thing about him though was what could loosely be described as an eye patch. It was triangle shaped, covering the left side of his face almost completely from eyebrow down to the lip. His remaining eye was intense piercing. Victor both hated and feared the man. As excepted every single kid jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Welcome, my little rejects. You are all here because you are fucked up convicts, likely to lead pointless lives of crime, and be nothing more then burdens to honest tax payers and men of the law like me.

"Now I don't honestly expect to get along with any of you. I do not cater to rats, but as long as you do not cross or disobey me there should be any problems between us. If you do happen to make the choice to prove your bravery by going against me, You. Will. Regret it.

"That's all, I hope for your sakes that I don't get to know any of you. Have a nice day."

The man turned on his heel and left with out another word, leaving his confused charges in his wake. None of them really knew what to do and there was a few seconds of shifting from foot to foot before Victor stepped forward. Wilson would always leave it to the senior residents to pick the newbies they wanted and show them around. There was already a couple of recruiters stepping forward and picking out the kids they had scouted.

He walked up to the two he had seen earlier. Despite his best effort, he knew that he probably looked frightening as hell. Who would be afraid of a six foot tall black kid? As he expected the girl and that black haired boy immediately stiffened and looked wary. The little blonde kid just looked shocked. Victor went for a disarming smile, but wasn't sure he really pulled it off.

"Hello my name is Victor and I'll be showing you around this place. No one'll screw with you as long as you're with me."

"Wait a minute," Sunglasses said. Victor could feel the kid glowering at him even though he could see his eyes. _Oh yeah, _Victor thought_, this one is defiantly like Rachel._ "What is this? You all just check us out in the line up and see who you want to join your crew? Let me guess, all I have to do is attack when you tell me and get stuck in here even longer, right? None of us are interested. We're sticking together and out of trouble."

"Well that's great Shades, it practically guarantees that you'll never have to fight an asshole in this place that wants to prove himself against you. If I could make a suggestion, you might want learn the rules of this place before you start running off your mouth."

"Could I suggest a nice place for you to stick that _suggestion_ of yours?" Victor was about to lay the kid out when the girl stepped in.

"Il mio Dio! There is more testosterone here than a Bruce Willis movie. Richard, would you please calm down. He is right. You are not staying out of any trouble by doing this. Excuse him Victor he is just overprotective. By the way, my name is Kori Anders, this is Garfield Logan- just call him Gar- and that is Richard Grayson."

"Nice to meet you Kori, Gar. Now follow me and I'll help you get set up in a room. There aren't many things you need to know about this place, but if you have any questions feel free to ask me. There aren't any rules, Slade lets us deal with our own problems, but you really want to stay under his radar. The man's a monster. He's not afraid to literally beat you down.

"There are a few cliques in this house that sometimes fight, but it isn't like juvy where every thing is separated by race. Everyone just tries to find the strongest people they can."

"Then why pick me?" Gar asked.

"Well I sorta exist out side of the rules. 'Sides I can't just leave some one who's never even been in lock up to fend for himself." Victor laughed as Gar started gaping. He went on to explain some of the finer points of house politics, and escorting them from one shabby area to the next. By the end of the tour it was decided that Gar would room with him. Kori decided to room with Karen Beecher, another girl from their shift, and Richard managed to intimidate his way into getting a room to himself.

As they headed down to the large kitchen that acted as a mess hall Gar slapped his back and said, "So dude you must be like the biggest bad ass in this place. I mean everyone seems really careful around you and you like know everything. When are we gonna meet the rest of your group."

"My group? What do you…? Oh! It's really not that much of a group and there is no real leader. Even if there was it wouldn't be me. Don't get me wrong, I've been here longer than anyone, and pull a lot o' weight, but there's no way I'm top of the food chain. The real reason no one screws with me is because I'm protected. Besides Slade, there is only one person who nobody tries to screw with."

"Wow dude! When do we get to meet this guy?" Victor silently chuckled to himself. He opened the door to the kitchen and led them through the throng of teens trying all in a bustle to get some food. He was trying to push his way to the back corner table that he knew everyone avoided. A girl sat there reading and sipping a cup of tea. Victor gestured grandly.

"Here she is. This is Rachel Roth, the most dangerous resident in this place." He didn't have to turn around to see their shocked expressions, the sound of them choking on their incredulity was easy enough to hear with his back turned.

Rachel looked up from her book and raised a questioning eyebrow. She then gave her full attention to those behind him. Victor heard someone gasp.

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1. Mugging is a slang term used in my corner of the world. Basically it's like glaring or the stink eye, that kind of thing. It's also beating someone up for money, but not the way I'm using it.

**Well that came out a little duller than expected. Oh well, the story should pick up a lot if I continue, there are a couple fights planned next chapter. But I'm suuuper serious when I say that I'm not continuing this if there is no fan support. I'm moving on to my next story unless I get more than six reviews. I'm not asking for much. **

**MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD…REVIEW!**


	2. Touch

**THANK YOU, MY SUPER AWSOME REVIEWERS! **

**Oh goodness I love you guys. Oh and sorry I took so long, I was drugged out on painkillers. (Surgery) Anyway I'm terrified that this won't hold up to your expectations, but here you go.**

**QUESTIONS: Zarola, I answer that in this chapter. Xaphrin, I allude to the reason a little in the first chapter, but Victor's full story comes out in a couple chapters.**

**NOTES: No new major players, in this chapter. Oh and sorry for some horrible Italian, I'm trying my best. Also, BEFORE YOU READ this understand that to make this story natural, the same pairings won't be set in stone through the entire story. By the end, many will change, but not all.**

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**_Rachel looked up from her book and raised a questioning eyebrow. She then gave her full attention to those behind him. Victor heard someone gasp._

**Chapter Two**

**Touch**

_Grab hold as tight as you can, but it still won't matter if you can't touch the soul_

Richard heard Gar sharply take a breath. It shamed him to admit it, but he probably would have to, if the weight of her gaze hadn't crushed the air from him. When Victor had said that this girl was the terror of the house, he had thought it was some kind of joke. Yet as soon as she looked upon them, there was no doubt in his mind of the validity of what was said. Most of the kids here were just screw-ups with shitty parents that didn't give them enough attention. They were harmless.

This girl was anything but harmless.

She put down her book and her eyes flicked away from them. "Well Victor that was certainly an interesting way to start off your introduction. Would you mind telling me who you brought to my table and why." She looked annoyed with him now and Victor seemed to shift uncomfortably. He cleared his throat and began pointing to each one of them in turn.

"This here is Kori Anders, this is Gar Logan, and Mr. Moody and Broody over here is Richard Grayson. I was just showing them around. Showing them the ropes you know, I brought them here so that they could get some dinner. I was hoping that they could eat with us." Rachel was silent. Annoyance gave way to an intent glare, and Richard saw all the muscles in Victor's back tighten up. Her gaze shifted from Victor to the rest of them. When her eyes fell on him, it felt like his barriers were being shredded apart. Deep pools of amethyst consumed him. Richard had never felt so naked before anyone before, with all his secrets and fears laid bare. There was certain amount of intimacy to it, even if he could see nothing of her.

"Please." Victor's voice whispered out, and the moment between them was shattered. Rachel's flicked once more to the large black boy, and then she picked up the book. Without looking up from it she sighed.

"Victor, if you want your friends to eat tonight then I suggest you get them some food before people start going in for seconds." Richard heard Victor let out a tight, pent up breath, and began to feel some relief himself. Whatever examination Victor had thrown them into, it looked like they had passed. Richard could only guess at what had transpired, but it appeared that at Victor's appeal, Rachel had extended her protection over them.

The large boy led them away to get some food. He chatted on about the place looking excited and a little amazed. Richard couldn't help but ask, "I'm going to guess that Rachel isn't normally inclined to accept new people like this."

"No. She might pick one person per shift, if that and she'll always choose them herself. Now I've had friends outside of Rachel's protection before, but I'm pretty sure Gar could not have survived here without it, so I went out on a limb to get her to give it to ya." That was basically what Richard had expected, and as tense as Victor seemed to be while speaking to Rachel on their behalf, he wondered what might have happened if she had not consented.

They all got food and headed back to the table, Rachel not acknowledging them at all. Within the first few seconds of sitting down, Gar and Victor had already started what appeared to be the world's next great debate, the merit of meat. Gar slapped his hand to his mouth, looking a little green as he watched Vic eat. "Dude, that is so extremely and completely beyond disgusting. That used to have a heart beat, and think, and feel."

"Yeah but it's dead now. And someone was going to eat it anyway. Why shouldn't it be me? I mean come on! It's just so juicy and delicious, and belongs in my belly." The large boy was practically crying with laughter as Gar's face went a ridiculous shade of green. After a few seconds Victor looked up at the other boy with an amused curiosity. "So tell me, how exactly did you end up in this place?"

The smile that had adorned Gar's features faltered and slipped. He cleared his throat and scratched the back of his head. Richard leaned forward expectantly in his seat. He was curious about this too.

Richard watched Gar fidget, obviously uncomfortable at the prospect of telling his story. "Okay then," Gar sighed. He focused his eyes intently on his food and began to speak. "I had just moved into to a new foster home. It was a pretty big group home, about this size. There were kids of a lot of different ages, 8 to 17. Some of the older kids were real assholes. Bitter. They started picking on the younger ones and didn't stop when I tried to get them to. So I set it up so the staff could catch them in the act. Somehow they found out that it was my doing and weren't too happy about it. They decided to get me back by putting steroids in my food. I don't know exactly what they were hoping to accomplish, but I think in the end they considered it a success.

"After a couple weeks I put on like ten pounds of muscle. I started getting mood swings, and changed my diet. The jerks even ended up inviting me into their group because I was acting just like one of them. It went on for around two or three months. Instead of keeping my head down and having a low profile like normal, I became one of those alpha male types. One day we all went out played some basketball on the court outside the house. The younger kids came out, the same ones they had been screwing with in the beginning, and my new 'friends' started messing around with 'em. I watched for about five minutes, when one of the kids started crying and asked me for help. I tried to step in, but they wouldn't stop.

"It pissed me off. Royally. I told the guys to stop or they were going to regret it. They just laughed it off and then one of them, Adonis, decided to take it up a notch. He grabbed the kid who asked me for help and started beating him up. I don't know exactly what happened, I just remember being angrier than I ever had been before. It took two boys and a staff member to pull me off of him. I put him in the hospital for a couple days. When I was charged, I got drug tested. They found the steroids and when I told my lawyer I didn't take them, he got a confession out of one of the boys who had drugged me.

"My lawyer convinced the judge that since I was unknowingly under the influence, I couldn't be responsible for my actions. The judge decided that I needed to go somewhere that could monitor my behavior to make sure I wasn't violent before I could go back to a new group home. I was told I had to be in this place for a shift. I was in juvy for a night then I got picked up by the bus to come here. That's where I met Kori and Richard. They were sitting next to me and I started talking to Kori and Richard suggested that we all stick together. That leads us up to now."

During the entire story, Gar had not once looked up from his food. Even after he was finished he continued to idly toy with the leftover peas on his plate. He looked shamed and sick. Richard couldn't help but feel a quick rush of sympathy for the other boy. The kid was about as non-violent as you get, he didn't even eat meat. Yet here he was stuck, because some assholes wanted a little payback. Richard could feel fury turning in the pit of his stomach. Gar was being punished for being a victim. He was being punished for defending people who were failed by those in power. Richard was about to say something, but Kori beat him to it.

"That's wrong. It's not your fault. Victor's right, you don't belong here in more ways than one, but since you're here I'm glad that you were so annoyingly persistent at trying to be my friend on the bus." Kori smiled at Gar, and Richard couldn't help but notice how it lit up her face with kindness and innocence. Though it wasn't as blatantly obvious as it was with Gar, Richard could tell that Kori didn't belong here either. Even though there were signs that she had been tried in her life, she had not been broken. He could see purity and compassion that was foreign in a place like this. He was jolted from his musings by the sound of an unfamiliar voice.

"So, I hear that you're the toughest person in this joint, the person to know. My name is Johnny, here for boosting a motorcycle, resisting arrest, and assault. If you're as tough as they say than I think that me an' you could get along real nicely. Whata ya say?" Richard watched as the boy addressed Rachel. It only took him a second to decide that he didn't like him. The kid was above average height, with a decent build. He had long, lank, greasy hair and sporadic acne about his face and neck. There was an unclean look about him that made it appear as though he didn't bathe often, or hadn't cared to clean up recently.

Rachel only made a noncommittal sound in the back of her throat and flipped a page in her book. Richard watched with no small amount of amusement, as Johnny grew red in the face with what appeared to be embarrassment and anger at Rachel's lack of response. Once more he tried to get her attention. "Hey I'm tryin' to talk to ya here, have some fuckin' respect and look at me damn it!"

Rachel did not dignify his outburst with a response. Johnny snarled and grabbed the back of Gar's chair. "Why are you letting a little pussy like this into your circle and not me? Bet you're not even that tough, stupid bitch. Le' me show you how much stronger I am than this lil' fucker." With that Johnny pulled the back of Gar's chair harshly causing the smaller boy to spill out onto the floor with a yelp.

As Gar went down, his knees clipped the underside of the flimsy, old table hard enough to jolt it and make the dishes clatter. Hard enough to spill Rachel's tea. Richard saw the girl freeze. Not just stiffen, but go still. Completely and utterly still, in a way that he had never seen a living thing do. Slowly she picked up a napkin and laid it to down to stem the flow of the light golden brown liquid. Then she placed her book down on the table, open so as to save her page. Calmly she turned to face the offending boy. Richard didn't know what kind of look she was giving him, but the boy took a quick step back and paled. By now the entire room was quiet and staring.

Rachel stood, looking up so she could meet the eyes of the boy who was at least a good half a foot taller than her. "Congratulations, you now have my complete and undivided attention. Now do you have something to say that isn't a waste of time and air?" The question was said quietly and with composure. It was devoid of anger or annoyance, or any other emotion for that matter.

Johnny spluttered and retreated another step. He let out a strangled chuckle and half hysterically cried, "Bitch you can't touch me."

Richard barely saw the kick Rachel sent flying towards Johnny's knee. There was a sickening crack as it connected, followed shortly by a howl of pain and surprise. As the boy fell, the petite girl quickly grabbed hold of his shirt and kept him on his feet. She sent a swift knee into his gut, causing Johnny to retch. With strength Richard believed her small form incapable of, Rachel held the boy up with only one hand and sent two quick left hooks to his face. The room was silent but for the wet crunching sound of Johnny's nose breaking and his shameless sobs. The bright red of his blood stood in stark contrast to the cheap, white linoleum floors it had splattered upon. Rachel dropped his body with a thud and then knelt down beside him. She poked his forehead, pushing his face to the side.

"Would you look at that, I guess I _can_ touch you," the girl said wryly. Someone in the back of the room started to chuckle, which set off a wave of jeers aimed at the prone boy. Richard saw a red headed kid push his way through the throng holding a steaming mug. He handed it to Rachel and she accepted the cup with a nod of her head.

"Thanks for the tea Roy, it's fresh."

"Yeah, when I saw this punk knock your glass over I figured that you would need some more. The tea that was in the pot was cold, so I made a fresh batch. I think this cup is still boiling a little."

"How considerate. I hope you don't mind if my friend here tastes it first, though." With that Rachel tilted the cup, pouring its boiling contents on Johnny's face. The boy let out a shriek of pain as it connected with his eyes and scalded his skin. Another roar of laughter tore through the room. Richard felt his stomach clench. He stood abruptly, leaving the room and scene behind him.

Outside the air was cool, and the sound of sick amusement was dampened by the door. Richard understood the concept of force used to retain order and dominance. He understood the need to stand up for yourself and others. What he didn't understand was using violence to a cruel and tortuous extent to accomplish something that could have been resolved relatively painlessly. To maintain control, all Rachel needed to do was give the kid a couple of bruises, instead she probably snapped his knee, broke his nose, and gave him first degree burns. Richard heard the door open, and looked back to see Kori standing there. She walked beside him and sat on the steps of the small porch, beckoning to him to sit.

"I take it that you did not enjoy the spectacle in there too much either, Richard?"

"No. That wasn't right. I think we may have made a mistake. I know we agreed to do everything in our power to stay out of trouble and stay safe, but I don't think that I could ever be associated with someone like that. That was ruthless, no boundaries, no justice."

"If you haven't noticed, 'justice' is the reason we've been thrown in here. After this display, I don't think anyone would dare touch us. If you remember, Rachel responded to that _fesso_ harming Gar."

"Are you sure it wasn't because her tea spilt?" Richard looked at her with a small smirk, doubts temporarily assuaged. Kori responded with a tentative smile of her own and scooted closer. It was only years of practice at hiding his emotions that kept the blush from his cheeks.

He watched the wind sway the trees, and shivered. Not because of the cool night air, but the memory of Rachel's fight. He considered himself an accomplished fighter, but she took it to a whole new level. There was an economy of motion to it, with precision and speed that spoke of years of training. In a few seconds she had a boy a good 50 pounds **(23 kilos) **heavier than her, on the ground begging for mercy. The fight was short, brutal, and beautiful. He had never seen anyone move with such perfect grace. It filled him with almost as much awe as it had terror.

~~xxooxx~~

"DUDE! Wasn't it like the coolest thing ever when she was all like 'Looks like I can touch you.' I mean that was just classic. I've never seen anyone fight like that in my life, not even Bruce Lee," Gar exclaimed, continuing to put away his meager possessions in his half of the room. Victor couldn't help but roll his eyes as he helped him get set up. For the past half hour the little dude had chattered on and on about how great, cool, and gorgeous Rachel was. Even though Victor agreed whole-heartedly with most of it, it was getting to be damn annoying.

Still he couldn't help but feel bad for the kid. Gar hadn't been in complete control of himself and had done a horrible thing, now he was trapped here for the next two months. Victor was more perceptive than most people gave him credit for. He knew there was more to the story than what Gar had said, but if he didn't want to talk about it, Victor wouldn't push it. On top of that, he was in a foster home; there could be no happy story about that. And once again the kid was in for some pain, if he didn't give up on the idea of Rachel. Victor readied himself to dispel any notion of a chance Gar might have harbored. He knew anything he said or did would be a mercy compared to what Rachel might do.

"Listen Gar, I can here it your voice, man, you've got a massive crush on Rachel. You're my roommate, and even if I've known you for less than a day, I'd like to think we're friends, so I'm tellin' you, you need to lay off. If you go after Rachel you are going to get hurt, and most likely the pain won't just be emotional. I've seen boys, and actually one girl, try to hook up with her before. Some got of gently, meaning she only tore 'em a new one verbally, others went to the hospital. It'll be better if you just dropped it." Gar looked at him, embarrassment painting his cheeks red. After a second, he shook his head furiously.

"No you're wrong. It isn't just a crush, I've had crushes before. This is different, deeper. I know it sounds ridiculous, I've known her for a couple hours, and she didn't even talk to me, but I don't know, I can't explain it. It was like–"

"She just pierced your soul. You got lost in her eyes. Love at first sight? Come on man, anything you say is just gonna sound cliché. I mean there's times when a guy goes after someone that's out of their league, but she doesn't even live in the same world as you. There's no chance."

"It might seem that way, but I'll go slow. I'll work on it. Get her to open up some. I mean have any of those people even made an attempt to get to know her a little bit before trying to go out with her."

"I can bring one to mind, yeah."

"Like who. I bet they went too fast, or said something stupid at the wrong time I mean you can't know for sure what happened."

"Yes I can because I'm talking about me," Victor said heatedly. Gar's shocked expression immediately, made Victor regret mentioning it. "Okay wait a sec, and let me clear this up a little. I had made the same plan that you did, and I _know_ that I did it right. It was most of the way through our second shift together, and I had thought that I had really gotten through to her. We would talk and everything.

"One day we were sitting out on the balcony watching the sunset, and I said something that made her smile. It was small, but it was real. I don't exactly remember what I did next, but it ended with my heart being torn out, still beating, on the floor. She gave me the ultimatum of getting over my feelings or leaving her protection, I chose to give up my chance of being with her that way. The next day when I talked to her it was like nothing happened." Victor didn't want to admit to himself how much telling that story hurt him. He had told himself that the only feelings he had for Rachel were platonic, but he wasn't sure now that he wouldn't jump at the chance be with her.

"You're wrong." Victor's head shot up in surprise at Gar's words. "I know it sounds stupid, but I'm not totally naïve. No one gets to be as closed off as Rachel is without something bad happening to them, and by the looks of it, it must have been beyond terrible. She's been hurt–broken–and I think she's just waiting for someone who's willing to do anything to help her. You might not have taken your chance, but I will."

Victor shook his head slowly, but couldn't help but feel some respect for the kid. Gar was staring up at him with a fierce, defiant determination in his eyes. The black boy sighed and said, "Your hearts in the right place, but I think this is a bad idea, thinking of Rachel as a damsel in distress is stupid. Still, I'll help you if I can, even if that means picking up pieces of you at the end. But you're right, so remember your own words. She's broken. She doesn't let anyone in, not really. I don't think there's anyone she will ever let get close to her. There's not a person in this world that can touch her."

~~xxooxx~~

"Really, did you have to go _that_ far? I think it was just a tad overboard," Roy said, looking at the shredded knuckles of the petite hand in his lap. He had already spread antiseptic, and was now just bandaging it up. Out on the balcony, the only real light source was the moon, which was hardly adequate, but this is where she had insisted on being, so here they were.

"I mean, after the knee thing, I think you got the point across. If you needed to do more, you could have just kicked his face once he was on the floor, but _no_ it's always the hard and dramatic way with you. Now here I am, bandaging your hand because you refuse to see the medic, which by the way you really should because I'm pretty sure one of your knuckles is broken. I really don't understand what the problem is, and I think you may need professional hel–" The rest of his words died in his throat as she placed her thumb over his lips, the rest of her hand cupping his face. His heart sped up as he looked into her eyes, which looked almost black in the night. They were as intense as they always were, but something was different, gentler in them. Within their depths something flickered briefly, but he caught it, mourning. Her hand slipped from his face.

"You should go back to your room. Slade has few rules, but curfew is one of them, if we get caught we'll both be in trouble." He looked at her doubtfully and started heading for the door. "Don't worry a bout me, I've broken knuckles before, but I didn't this time. And…thank you for the help. Good night, Roy."

He clutched the door frame, leaning his forehead against it. It took a second, but he finally managed whisper, "Good night, Rachel."

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**Wow that was surprisingly long. I cut some of the duller moments though. I hope this lives up to your guys' expectations. If you have concerns about where this is headed voice them now or forever hold your peace. Remember what I mentioned in the beginning about pairings, some pairings will change through the story, but I won't tell which ones, so stay on your toes.**

**I have where I want this to head mostly down, but I'm fickle, so if someone is persistent (and reviews) I may change my mind…maybe. Again, this story is on constant probation, I want to match my last set of reviews. Come on only 10, you already did it once, do it again! Anyway praise me, flame me just**

**MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD…REVIEW!**


	3. Mask

**Wow sorry this took so long…let's just say that I died and was then resurrected. Hopefully the next update will be much quicker. Anyway this is dedicated to all those who reviewed, this story would not have been able to continue without you. I want to send a special thanks to JJ. **

**JJ you are like my BFF! I just wish you had an account so I could message you. Trust me their worth it, even if you don't write.**

**QUESTIONS: – don't worry you'll be getting a full back story for all the major players. JJ – Karen initially was going to have a bigger role but as chapters got longer, I cut her parts, but she was never under Rachel's protection. Darkangel436 – I think you'll be satisfied by the end of this story, don't worry. MissFortune – that's a pretty good guess at Star's story, you'll see, but I plan on surprising you a little. Kori will not be a two-dimensional character, I hope to add complexities and flaws to her that aren't normally seen, and they will be reflected in her past. **

**NOTES: In this story Brother Blood's character is derived for the comic version, as opposed to the show. I like him better as a cult leader. Any questions feel free to ask. Jinx is 16. Don't worry about Richard; he gets better as time goes on. No one likes a Robin that isn't bad ass. Once again, INITIAL PAIRINGS MAY CHANGE BY THE END OF THE STORY!**

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**Chapter 3**

**Mask**

_"He who wears a mask cannot see within himself."_

The blow came so swiftly, he didn't even register that he had ducked until he saw her foot speeding towards his face. He went into a diving role to the side and sent a hasty kick back to discourage her from pressing the advantage. Sweat trickled down his brow and followed the contours of his muscles down his back. Richard hadn't worked this hard in a long time. There was only one other person that he had come to blows with that even came close to this level of skill, and the man had had years to master the art of combat.

Once on his feet, Richard feinted a punch to her head and then went for kick to the knees. For a moment he thought he had caught her unawares, but he should have known better by now. Rachel didn't even bother to block anything; instead she just took a quick step out of harm's way, leaving Richard slightly unbalanced. Without missing a beat she came back into range and sent a right hook flying towards his jaw. Richard leaned back slightly to evade the blow, but as soon as it passed his face her fist changed direction, backhanding him. Richard recovered quickly and they began circling each other.

He was lucky that the blow didn't have too much force behind it; otherwise he would be down and out for the count. Sweat kept stinging his eyes and his hair was plastered to his face and neck. They'd been going at it for a few minutes, but there was only a faint glistening on Rachel's face and neck. Richard watched as lonely, shining bead slid along a delicate cheekbone and down her chin, before it began its solitary fall to her chest. Silently he cursed himself. If only he had kept his damn mouth shut, then he wouldn't be in this mess.

So far it had looked like a fairly even match, yet anyone who had some training and skill could easily tell the outcome. While it was true the tide of the fight shifted back and forth, it was never in his control. Rachel had landed some pretty good hits, while he hadn't landed anything more than a glancing blow. It had taken him a while but now he realized she was just doing a subtler version of the rope-a-dope (1). There she stood barely taxed while he was sucking wind, and it had been so damn crafty that by the time he figured it out, he had already lost. He let loose another flurry of fruitless punches, which she dodged and blocked with contemptuous ease. She was like smoke, whenever his eyes told him he had connected, his fists felt nothing but air.

Rachel slapped aside his latest attempt and her hand slide easily across his sweat-slicked arm as she stepped inside his guard. Richard could feel the heel of her palm flying toward the underside of his chin. It just barely clipped him as he made a desperate dive backwards, that turned in to little more than a stumble as she caught his feet. He looked up from the ground as she made her way towards him, slow and deliberate. All Richard did was look at her in defiance, with his chest and lungs laboring in great heaves. It was all he could do. She stood over him, no emotion, no pity, in her eyes. _This is it_, Richard thought, _I'm screwed._

Rachel reached down slowly and began hauling him up. "Nice try there _Dick_," she said dryly. Richard cringed at the use of this little nickname. "But… not good enough." With that Rachel dropped him to the floor, sending up a huge billow of dirt. Richard couldn't even reply. He just lay, gasping with exertion, and choking on dust. All those around him jeered. His reputation just died all because he had to be arrogant and challenge Rachel to a sparring match. Any chance at trying to build up a decent reputation for himself was gone. She wasn't even trying too hard and she destroyed him. He had lost.

There was a moment of insane, irrational self-loathing, when he realized something. If he had just a little more training and the fight was one of passion, he would win. Certainly there was no guarantee, after all her moves and form were flawless, but it was like the difference between a human and a computer. Even that didn't completely describe it, a computer is perfect, inflexible, and lacks the ability to do what it hasn't been told to, but Rachel, while perfect, was clever and ready to adapt to any new situation with ease. She had the ingenuity of man, and the perfection of machine, but she lacked something so base and quintessential to existence, it was hard to call her living at all. There was no passion in her, no reason for her to breathe or to go on. Richard was struck by how hollow and depressing it was.

"Damn man, I haven't seen anybody go up against Rachel like that. Don't listen to these idiots. You did way better than anyone else would've." Victor slapped him on the back and laughed. The only thing Richard managed in response was weakly wave his hand and wheeze in what hopefully sounded like gratitude. The group sat on a bench and Kori handed him a cup of water. His friends chattered on around him as he tried to catch his breath. They had been here for a little over a week and Rachel had only sat and eaten meals with them four times, including the night they met. She hardly ever spoke, and when she did it was almost exclusively to Roy or Victor.

Richard watch as Rachel sat on the ground, resting her back against a tree and reading. Her pose looked regal and relaxed. The rise and fall of her chest was smooth and even, compared to his erratic breathing. Her hair was pulled back for the first time that Richard had seen, and she wore a thin Nike jacket. He kind of liked the sporty look on her. Speedy plopped himself next to her and offered a glass of water. She barely acknowledged him as she took it. While Roy was extremely friendly, and even more talkative, he seemed to calm down when ever Rachel was near. He also seemed much more in tune with Rachel's moods than anyone else, even Victor.

Richard felt Kori's hand slide to his back and begin to make slow circular motions. His breathing calmed as he enjoyed the rub. After a second he realized how drenched with sweat he must be and how gross Kori probably thought that was. He began to blush furiously and jumped up from his seat.

"Um, I'm gonna go rinse off. I'll…uh… catch you guys later." Victor laughed and clapped him on the back again. He looked at Kori and quickly turned away when he saw her frown. The whole walk to the bathroom he was berating himself for not thinking of the sweat thing sooner, Kori must have thought he was beyond disgusting. He banged his head against the nearest wall as another cheery thought popped into mind, given how sweaty he was, he must totally stink too. His forehead and the wall were competing to see who could break whom first, when a voice rang out behind him.

"You know, I was rather impressed with your skill, no need to be angry with yourself, young Mr. Grayson. It's not healthy." Richard nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Wilson's voice. His heart rate seemed to double at the sight of the man looming there before him, so close. What was even worse was the interest that Richard could see dancing in his eye. After several silent moments had passed, the boy finally managed to croak out a response.

"Mr. Wilson, I didn't hear you coming up behind me."

"Yes, it would seem that smashing you skull against concrete is not the best way to stay alert and aware of your surroundings." Richard cringed inwardly and let out a nervous laugh. The intensity of the man's one-eyed glare made him want to squirm, but he fought the impulse by glaring right back. Slade leaned in closer and spoke in a slow and deliberate manner.

"As I was saying you are really quite talented, Rachel normally doesn't even bother initiating an attack on her opponent when she spars, all of her offence comes from counters and using her opponents' force against them. It was different with you though. She actually tried a little bit, put some complexity in her moves, and you still made a good show of it. I'm impressed. Where did you learn?"

"Here and there. Listen, thanks for the compliments, but I really need to go shower." Richard tried to make a move past the man, only to be blocked. An iron grip clamped down on his upper arm with bruising force.

"You know I was reading you file just a little bit ago. Those assault charges looked pretty nasty, especially considering how wealthy the victim was. I'm supposed to judge how fit you are to go back into the world, a word from me and you could be stuck here for a long time. In fact there are some very influential people pulling for me to do just that."

Richard felt his eyes narrow and all the muscles in his back tighten. "What exactly do you want with me?"

"Nothing really, I just see so much potential in you, so much of me in you. I used to be a soldier you know, a real idealist, too, which is an interesting combination to say the least. All I want you to do at this point is listen and consider what I am about to tell you. You have nowhere to go once you get out of this place, but I can offer you one. You are talented, if a bit unpolished, and if what you record says is true, you are quite intelligent. It just seems like a waste, for potential like yours to be squandered. Come out and I can train you, I may ask for you to do something in return, but that's only reasonable. In the future I may even be able to offer you employment. It seems like a fair deal to me, but if you wish to decline at first, I'm _sure _you'll have some extra time to consider."

"You say that you can train me, that sounds fine, but I don't like taking orders and I don't compromising my principles. I don't plan on being your lap dog." Richard shot the man another hard look, one that had made some kids back at juvie piss their pants. Wilson laughed.

"Enjoy your shower, Mr. Grayson. All I want you to do is consider the possibility. I won't force you. You will have a choice." Richard glared holes into the man's back as he was walking away, when Wilson stopped. Without turning he spoke, voice tinged with amusement.

"You and I both know that for the right reasons you are more than willing to compromise your morals. There is no evil I could ask of you that is worse than what you have already done anyhow." Richard stood not really seeing, but listening to the rhythmic pounding footfalls as Wilson walked away.

~~xxooxx~~

Roy sat, tongue sticking out and thumbs blurring across the controls. Gar and Victor sat to his sides and wore similar expressions of concentration. They had been at this for a little under an hour, and were nearing the end of their match. So far Roy was in the lead with Gar trailing closely behind, when suddenly Victor let loose a punishing surprise attack to finish and win the game.

"Booya! I totally just kicked your guys' ass. Who's the king of the Gamestation? I am!" The large boy laughed and waved his controller around as the other two groaned. They were in Roy's room and playing the Gamestation that his dad had sent over to him. It still killed him that Victor was so much better than him at it, considering the other boy hadn't played the damn thing since he was first incarcerated. Gar seemed to find that fact annoying too, and had already started to complain about it.

"Dude, you must have cheated there's no way you could have won that." The two immediately started bickering. Roy sighed and got up to put a different game in. He was happy that Victor had finally found himself a good friend. It didn't matter how hard he tried, he could never really get past the barriers that came naturally with being in this place and really connect with the guy. That didn't seem to be an issue for Gar seeing as he and Victor were practically inseparable, a lucky fact too. The only reason Rachel had yet to kill the kid was because he was doing Victor so much good.

Roy had to admit, it took a while for the friendship he had created with Victor to become genuine. For a long time it was only pretense, to hide his jealousy over how close Victor was to Rachel. It took him a while to finally get her to explain the nature of their relationship, but Roy was satisfied with the answer. According to Rachel, everyone in Victor's life just seemed to constantly screw it up, always taking with no return. Then he came here and met her. She gave him protection, she taught him things he would never have otherwise learned, and she listened to what he would say. She gave him some semblance of companionship without a price. Feelings of gratitude and friendship were mistaken, and infatuation grew. Roy remembered the look of wry humor on her face as she told him Victor had fallen "in love" with her because she was the safest option. The irony had certainly not escaped her notice.

"Damn with a name like Speedy you think you would be able to put the disk in faster. Hurry up, so I can kick your ass again."

"Well aren't we the cocky little bastard." All the boys jumped at the sound of a new voice. Jinx stood in the doorway casually leaning against the frame. She had come on the shift before his and headed another group at the house. Apparently she was the only one that Rachel had chosen from her shift, but she hardly needed protection; the reason she was still here was because she sent some kid to the hospital the shift before.

Jinx walked in slowly, every movement exuding femininity. Roy had to admit the girl was hot, and worked the punk look pretty well, with her various piercings and pink highlights contrasting nicely with her dark hair.

"Well, Jinx, when you're as good as me, it's not being cocky, it's just being honest," Victor said in a playful tone. She plopped down on the bed next to the black boy and chuckled.

"Is that true Victor? I bet a night's dish washing duty that I can beat you."

"You mean you bet one of your boy's dish duty night. I don't think I've ever seen you wash dishes."

"Whatever, if you win that still means that you don't have to do anything."

"Deal. Prepare to lose." Victor punctuated his statement by cracking his neck and knuckles. Roy and Gar sat on the bed watching the two go at it and laughing at the exchange of banter. Even though Jinx was a girl of many skill sets, he was still surprised when she beat Victor. All three of them were laughing as Victor cursed. Roy's stomach began to grumble and he got up to go see if there were any chips left from lunch. As he was about to leave the room Jinx's voice stopped him.

"Eh Roy, be careful right now. The reason I came up here in the first place was to tell you I saw Wilson patrolling around here." Roy froze. It felt like every organ inside his body just started constricting.

"Did you tell Rachel?" he barely managed to rasp out.

"Nah, couldn't find her. Hey dude you look a little sick. You okay?" Roy heard a ringing in his ears and saw white at the edge of his vision. He was the definition of not okay. It surprised him that he managed to suck in enough air to answer her.

"Yeah I'm fine, I think that burrito I had for lunch just wants some revenge."

"Good luck with that," she called after him as he stumbled out of the room. He didn't even register what she said; the only thing his mind could focus on was the need to find Rachel, and the knowledge that no matter where he looked, she wouldn't be there.

~~xxooxx~~

Kori fidgeted nervously outside of Richard's room. She had been there for a couple minutes just ringing her hands and thinking about what she was going to say. It seems like every time she lifted her hand to knock everything she had just planned out slipped through her mind, like sand through a sieve. In the end she just let out a huff of breath and decided that she was never going to be ready and knocked on the door.

The surprised look on Richards face when he opened the door, wiped any shred of confidence she may have had. The seconds ticked by as they both stood staring at each other, mouths agape. Even with the way Kori's thoughts seem to slow down, her brain managed to tell her that it was a monumentally stupid idea to come. What was it that she wanted to do, confront him about what happened earlier today when she touched him? Maybe it was to apologize about it. Whatever the reason knocking on his door defiantly seemed like a stupid thing to do now.

"Kori!" He breathed out her name, releasing it like a pent up breath. She could hear his shock, disbelief and nervousness. Suddenly she didn't feel nearly as stupid as she had before. If there was ever any good that came with living with her sister, it was learning the symptoms of a boy with a crush. Her sister was a master at commanding wandering eyes. Kori often had trouble speaking to her in public because of her entourage of swooning boys. She was surprised that she hadn't noticed it sooner; she used to spend hours listening to her sister lecture on the secret of capitalizing on infatuation and manipulating anyone that made the mistake of showing the slightest interest.

Kori felt the beginnings of a coy smile touch her lips, before she stopped herself. That wouldn't be her. She liked Richard, and if he returned her feelings, she wanted it to be legitimate. She would rather die than turn into anything resembling her sister.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you Richard. I wanted to apologize for earlier. You bolted after the sparing match. I just wanted to know if I did anything wrong."

"No. I mean, you didn't do anything wrong. I was just… I don't know. It wasn't you. I just felt like a shower and, well, maybe was a little embarrassed that Rachel kicked my ass. Look I should be the one apologizing. Do you…do you want to come in?"

He opened the door a little wider to allow her entrance, and she was able to look inside. The blinds were shut, but enough light got through them that it was easy enough to see. The room was almost painstakingly orderly, with a military quality to it. The only thing out of place was the book that laid open on the nightstand. She looked at Richard, and though there was still some of the anxiety that seemed to plague him earlier, confidence, strength and, most importantly, kindness shown though.

Kori stepped inside.

~~xxooxx~~

Faint light bounced off the orange and black mask's metallic surface. A single cruel eye, glared down at him, gleaming with its very own malicious light. The momentary pause between them was broken when Daemon's assailant went for his gun. Before he had a chance to fire, Daemon kicked it out of his hand, and reached for his own, only to remember that he had already lost it earlier in the fight. He cursed. He had followed and worked for Blood for almost fifteen years, since he moved from Zandia, and here comes this asshole, giving him a run for his money. He had killed enough people to know what the presence of death felt like, and judging by the cold that had settled in his stomach; the reaper was not here to do his bidding tonight.

Rage began to build inside of him. He was the survivor of countless battles and gang wars, probably one of the most feared and respected of the Church of Blood's hit men. He had never heard of this guy before, and there was no way that he was going to be taken down by some new comer. They were in an abandoned warehouse and there were countless things that were perfect potential weapons. He leapt for a rusted wrench and managed to grab it before his attacker even knew what he was doing. Each wild swing he sent at the masked figure was dodged, and the frustration that was slowly blooming within his chest only mad his assault more frenzied.

Daemon's breath was coming quick and his sweat flowing freely by the time he saw his chance. The newcomer's arrogance caused them to falter, tripping over a piece of scrap wood. He lunged, bringing the wrench down heavily on his opponents head, or where it should have been, at least. The sound of metal hitting concrete rang throughout the building. He looked down surprised to not only see his wrench on the ground, but a knife protruding from his gut. Warmth seemed to leave his body from the wound.

Sluggishly he turned to face the man who would be his murderer. Even though he was mostly in shadow, it was easy to see his smug and relaxed posture. Flickers of anger once again lit within his breast, but it seemed his body was simply too cold to keep it aflame. He knew he had been bested.

"Who are you? Who do you work for? Hell, why have I never heard of you?" Only silence greeted his questions.

"I doubt you are going to let me live, and very few people would attack someone like me unless their trying to send a message. I would like to know what it is before I am to die." For a moment, Daemon thought that his question was once again going to be ignored, when the sound of an electronically filtered voice filled the room.

"I don't leave people alive to speak of me. I do not want to be known. You're right about the message, by the way. Blood had you do some things that offended my employer, and he wasn't happy." Daemon's mind raced as the black clad figure advanced. He thought about the jobs he had done in the last few months. Only one came to mind that would merit this kind of retaliation.

"You work for Trigon."

"Well, you pieced that together fast." Daemon didn't know when exactly had happened, but he was on his knees and looking up at the masked face, now right above him. The man, who looked so small now, sighed and pulled out the knife that was sheathed in his stomach. "It's a little sad really, that someone as good as you let their life be wasted by a foolish false prophet. Did Blood really think that he could take down Trigon with an army of blind, rabid sheep?"

The words ignited something within him. Brother Blood had given him purpose, a holy mission, salvation, something this heathen could never understand. He roared with the last of his life and defiance, hands clawing at the face and throat of his killer. The mask prevented his attack from doing much damage, yet in the process he managed to pull it off. He was so shocked by the sight that greeted him, he didn't even cry out as the knife once again bit into him.

It was a girl.

She was pale, with his blood dripping down her face like tears. She only looked surprised for a moment before all expression slipped from her face, a better mask than the one he had torn off. Darkness already began encroaching at the edges of his vision, yet it seemed to lack the depth and immensity of the void in her eyes. Who knew the color of death was amethyst?

She held his gaze, and that was the last thing he saw before the knife, already stained with his blood, cut his vision to black.

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**1 – Mohammad Ali used this technique against George Forman. Basically he let the guy swing until he had tired himself out and then capitalized on his fatigue. If you're really curious try Wikipedia. **

**Whew, finally done with that! I like wrote out that ending a couple times before the sadist in me shut up enough and I was able to keep it in the T range. Also something happened and I lost portions of the chapter and was forced to re do it. In my opinion it is still a little confusing but I tried to make it as clear as possible. Sorry this took so long to do, and sorry if you didn't like the plot twist, just in case you didn't get that was Rachel at the end there.**

**Anyway thank you so much for the reviews, but I have another job for you, my lovely readers. I have all the stories planned out as to why each character is there, but anything before their crime is a little hazy. So I am enlisting your help. What do you think about the character Richard? I want to see who has the best life story for him leading up to his crime. His story is the next to be told, and I would like to incorporate some of your ideas. Please send them my way!**

**MAKE YOUR VOICE HEARD…REVIEW!**


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